


to sleep dreamlessly, and to dream in kind

by pomgore



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Child Injury, Crushing on Someone in an Inappropriate Scenario, Hand Fixation, Implied Murder, Intense Descriptions of Suffering and Discomfort, M/M, Mind Control, Obsession, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Religion, Religious Cults, Self-Loathing, Slow Burn, Voyeurism, i'm looking at you genji
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:34:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 17,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24298180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pomgore/pseuds/pomgore
Summary: ~~~To forget oneself is to be happy. - Robert Louis Stevenson~~~to sleep dreamlessly, and to dream in kind.to dream sleeplessly, and to sleep in kind.to love hopelessly, and to hope in kind.to hope lovelessly, and to love in kind.to forget everything.
Relationships: Genji Shimada & Tekhartha Zenyatta, Genji Shimada/Tekhartha Zenyatta
Comments: 35
Kudos: 41





	1. १

Grey and white.

Genji is almost certain he’s gone colorblind. The oppressive, desaturated colors of this mountain make it seem as though there’s no color in the world at all, save for the mechanical glow of his new “body”. And the damn snow- it blinds him when he travels in the day. He’s taken to moving in the dark.

  
  
There are always eyes on him. He can feel it, how his skin tingles and the hair he’s got left stands up straight. He hasn’t heard so much as a stray crunch of a leaf since he’s arrived, though.

  
  
Sometimes, when Genji is trying his damndest to sleep in these shambled huts, he hears the softest mechanical whirr. He’s sure it’s his robotic parts.

  
  
This quest is a mistake, he knows. He seeks those who desire to remain unfound, those who have not spoken in the light for eons. Shambali know how to retreat. How to make people accept, how to make people forget.

Genji wants to forget everything. When he prays in the morning, before he sleeps through the day, he prays to forget. With every step he takes into the biting cold snow, he thinks of forgetting. Whoever’s watching him- they know. Of his desire to relinquish every memory he’s ever had, until the only things that remain are how to speak and how to walk.

It sounds beautiful.

So, he trudges onward. Marches through the night with the glow of his robotic parts to guide him.    
  


His relationship with his mechanical half is… complex. He hates it with every fibre of his being, but- with any luck, this trip will make him forget that he was ever whole in the first place. He will have to accept it, even though the thought makes him nauseous. 

  
  
Maybe the nausea is just the hunger. Genji ran out of provisions two days ago. 

But he presses on. He’ll either make it, or he’ll lay down in the snow and die. Win-win. A few minutes later, he trips on a hidden root and the snow is suddenly coming at him very fast. Seems like the decision was made for him. 

  
  
He stays for a few minutes. The whirr returns; it sounds as if it’s circling above him. He must have hit his head. 

  
  
Genji thinks he’ll just stay here until he dies. After a couple more minutes, though, the humming disappears. The silence is suddenly oppressive, and his ears start ringing. At first, it’s quiet, and Genji tolerates it. 

The ringing worsens. It’s a matter of moments before the screech is so loud that Genji wants to scream back at it to end the awful silence. 

He sits up. Immediately, the ringing disappears. That doesn’t seem quite right, does it? Genji is a little too delirious to work it out, and the darkness seems darker tonight. His field of view is restricted.

Genji starts wondering what else is in this place with him. What monster is lurking where he can’t see. He wonders if it will kill him.

**No.**

The cyborg shakily gets to his feet. It takes a few long moments for that (rather lazy) suicide attempt to register in his mind. His stomach feels hollow. Genji doesn’t think he’ll be trying that again anytime soon, if that screaming ring in his ears returns.

“ _ Kuso _ ..” He mutters under his breath,

He presses onwards. 

~~~

Genji feels even more ridiculous when he comes across a few stone statues a couple minutes later. Was he really that close to laying down and dying at the finish line? Yeesh.

The statues are of omnics. Relatively normal, though the clothes are a little strange for omnics. Certainly monk-like. It doesn’t exactly fit the bill of “monsters who shy from the light of day”, though rumors of an awful curse decimating a temple in the Himalayas have passed Genji by more than once. He just didn’t think it was the Shambali.

He can’t be too late. If he is, he’ll take the extra step and cut his own head off.

Something tells him to press onwards. He’ll figure out whether to self-decapitate once the answer to his question presents itself.

He navigates the statues, and a huge, sprawling stone monastery cuts through the thick fog and darkness. The sun is beginning to rise, but the only real color he can see anymore is the red glow of his body. That, and the apples he doesn’t dare pick from the trees.   
  
They look too perfect. Genji doesn’t trust it a bit.

Genji is not a terribly religious man. He does pray before bed, but he finds himself restless the next day if he doesn’t. It helps to speak aloud, when Genji’s been living in a shroud of silence for so long. 

When did he start this miserable venture? He estimates the longer side of three weeks. 

Too fucking long, obviously.

The monastery- temple, whatever- is certainly beautiful. It appears to have been carved right out of the side of the mountain, and the caverns feature statues similar to those outside, along with engravings in a language Genji can’t identify. He’s pretty sure it’s not even Nepali.

The feeling of being watched is stronger than ever. He can’t hear anything but the sound of his own footsteps. When he looks around, all he sees are the statues and the unlit candles lining the many halls.

This place is like a maze. A labyrinth designed to capture trespassers like Genji in it’s dark, starving maw. Since when did Genji have such poetic thoughts? He must be losing his mind out here.

He presses onward. A few times, he gets lost, turning a corner to find a hall he recognizes. Maybe it really is a labyrinth in here- but, Genji won’t be bested by some pesky maze. He’s a killing machine. He can solve a little puzzle.

A few hours pass. Genji cannot solve a little puzzle.   
  
He knows he’s starting to lose his grip on reality when he sees an illusion. A mirage, if you please. He turns to one of the many omnic statues. This time, it’s head is a massive, green, filigreed eyeball. Right when Genji is wondering how the paint has withstood time in such a way, it blinks.

Genji is so surprised that he stumbles back. He blinks a few times, and then it’s gone. Just a regular, boring old omnic head. 

He really needs to get out of this place.

The cyborg keeps going. He knows hours are passing, he can feel how the stone slowly warms as sunshine licks across the outside of the mountain. Finally, he figures out a solution.

He comes across a wall he recognizes, and takes out one of his  _ shuriken _ . He knows it’ll ruin the beloved weapon, but it’s either the  _ shuriken _ or the  _ odachi _ that possesses far more power than his dinky little throwing stars ever could.

Genji scrawls a few Japanese characters into the wall. 開始- kaishi, or  _ start _ . He kneels in front of it and, like a true desperate bastard, prays aloud.

“Shambali, in this world or the next, allow me to pass through these halls.” He murmurs into his interlocked fists. “I ask humbly for your mercy and your guidance. Forgive me for defacing your sacred grounds.”

He gets to his feet. That old machine hum returns. He feels a mite more invigorated than he did. He can do this, dammit.

Through every hall he passes through, he writes a number and two arrows. The number of the hall, the direction he came from, and the direction he’s going. It’s a brute-force method, but he’s getting out of this labyrinth whether the labyrinth likes it or not. 

A good half-hour passes. Genji is pretty sure he’s marked up every hallway in this place when he sees a speckle of light. He chases after it, and finds a stone slab covering a doorway. Thank whatever god-damn creature the Shambali worship.

After a great deal of effort, the door is knocked down and crumbles as soon as it makes contact with the earth below. Genji can only relish in the sunshine for a moment.

The smell of death hits him immediately. He thought that all the musty white was snow, but- no. Snow doesn’t even seem to come in here. The white is a shallow, desaturated yellow, and it colors the bones of just about every creature Genji can think of off the top of his head. 

The skeletons, he realizes, are of mostly small animals. He accidentally steps on the skull of something about the size of a shrew. Guilt nibbles at his ankles, but Genji shakes it off. He’s done much worse to a number of things far more intelligent than a shrew.

Genji will not give up. This has got to be the right direction, if it’s so laden with corpses. 

As he dredges on, the skeletons become more and more recently exposed. Little bits of flesh and sinews cling to the bones. Bits upgrade to chunks. Genji is becoming nauseous.

It is now that the ringing returns. Genji thinks it might be an old curse or something in that vein, with how it comes and goes like a migraine. It screams at him, shakes him to his very core. 

Genji is struck with the sudden urge to turn and run. He does not act on that urge. 

The ringing makes his head swim. He doesn’t give up, though he falters every now and again. He marches on like a soldier. Silently begs whatever demons are plaguing him to stop for one blissful moment of complete and utter quiet. 

He’s marching through fresh carcasses, now. They range from mice to bats to birds to rabbits. He pauses, hastily removing his visor to vomit. Almost entirely bile. Genji wonders if he’ll starve to death or die of the smell out here first. 

He sighs, putting on his visor again and dredging onward. The ringing doesn’t subside, but it seems to have evened out. It’s almost nothing compared to the sickly sweet smell of decay and rotting and festering. 

_ What sort of monster killed all of these things to leave them to bake in the sun? _ He wonders.  _ Will I end up here too? Another skull to be crushed under the heel of another boot. _

Genji will not allow these thoughts to weigh down his feet. He will ask these questions to whoever he finds up here. 

It’s almost a blessing to find another stone slab, connected to another doorway. He kicks it in with every bit of strength he has, and darts inside. The smell and the ringing is cut off as soon as he passes the threshold.

This place has got some weird shit going on.

The hallway is linear this time around. There are statues, but every head appears to have been very cleanly removed. Based on the piles of rubble in front of each, Genji can guess where those heads got off

to.

He doesn’t feel like pressing onwards right now, though. He lays down on the floor, lacing his hands over his belly and taking a few well-deserved breaths of fresh air. For a moment, he closes his eyes.

He nearly screams aloud when he opens them to see that god-forsaken eye staring at him again.

It’s pupil is a thin, void-black slit. The emerald iris around it gleams- Genji thinks it likes how freaked out he is- and, occasionally, it blinks. It appears almost mechanical in nature, with the sheen it’s golden filigree has. Genji finds himself reaching towards it, so he draws away quickly. 

The demons around here must be more interested in Genji now that he’s passed their awful bone-yard successfully. 

Suddenly, the thing chimes like a bell. Genji sits up, and the eye remains level with him. It chimes again. Genji is reminded of an old, deep-tone windchime he saw in Hanamura once. The memory is bittersweet.

“What are you?” Genji croaks. The eye doesn’t answer- duh, it doesn’t have anything in the way of a mouth- but it sways back and forth. Were Genji a little more impressionable, and more willing to anthropomorphize things, he’d say the eye was dancing around childishly. It’d be cute if it wasn’t so off-the-wall strange.

Genji decides this is a fine time to stand up. He gets to his feet, and the eye drifts away into the mist that awaits Genji further along his path. 

Damn. Whoever or whatever’s waiting for him there is going to be a strange one.


	2. २

Despite the best efforts of that creepy little eye-orb thing, Genji sets up shelter for the night. 

His portable little camp is a sad one. The tent is small and a little thin for Himalaya weather, though his comforter and the fact that he’s now inside of a building help a great deal. There’s no reason why he keeps the pots and pans around, but they have a little bit of sentimental value behind them. Maybe Genji will find some food on the way. He could forage in the bone-yard, though returning to that wretched place sounds like a fate worse than death.

He’ll try forgaing tomorrow. He’s gotten through the worst of it, a little berry-picking won’t hurt.

He curls up in bed and inhales. Fresh air is so sweet and crisp. Genji wishes he hadn’t taken such a thing for granted. The air smells crisp and almost salty. The cyborg is reminded of a vast, azure ocean.

So many things remind him of home these days. He wonders if it’s possible that he’s homesick for a god-forsaken place like Hanamura. 

Probably not. Just remembering better days.

He sleeps. He always dreams, but this one isn’t a nightmare for once.

  
  
He’s in a grey field. In front of him is a single grey tree with a single grey apple hanging from the branch. Genji is completely nude. He doesn’t feel exposed, though. He feels natural, even though he’s in his current body. 

He reaches for the apple, and there’s suddenly a presence behind him. A voice unlike any he’s ever heard before murmurs into his ear. 

  
  
**“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”**

Genji doesn’t understand. The apple looks delicious. “Why?”

**“Gold is the devil’s fish-hook.”**

Genji’s eyes snap open, but he doesn’t take a deep breath or rub his eyes. He’s simply awake and in the world now. The dream was… strange. He’s never heard any voice like that in his life. It was deep and wise and older than time. The way it resonates within Genji’s skull makes him feel like he’s motion-sick. 

But- it sounded earnest. Genji is more willing to trust that voice than he wants to be. Must be some freaky monster lurking around this place. God knows Genji’s seen enough evidence of one.

What kind of monster invades dreams? Whispers in ears and spouts proverbs? Maybe it’s one of the Shambali, in whatever otherworldly form it’s taken now that everyone here is gone.

Genji didn’t pray last night, he realizes. Maybe it was that.

Well, whatever. Genji gets to his feet and breaks everything down. He has to find some food before he withers away into nothingness. Whatever weird dream creature and/or religious repercussions are after him will just have to wait for him to finish breakfast.

He takes to looking through the other hallways. One of them leads to a different courtyard, thankfully void of gore and death. It seems rather nice, if a little barren. All the color seems a little less saturated than usual, and there’s not a plant to be seen other than the fine blades of grass that brush Genji’s knees. Someone should cut this grass sometime.

He doesn’t think he’ll find any luck here. Maybe it’d be a good place to practice his aim, should he get stuck up here longer than intended. But, for now, there’s no food for him. He moves on. 

The next doorway he comes across opens to a small gazebo, surrounded by an equally small moat. It’d be more picturesque if the moat wasn’t overrun with pond scum and the gazebo wasn’t crawling with vines all vying for sunlight. 

  
  
Something catches Genji’s eye. In the middle of the gazebo is a small silver tray. On top of this tray is a bowl, a small wooden spoon, and a little clay cup. The cyborg wonders if he’s hallucinating. 

He tentatively steps closer. It doesn’t disappear. The steam from the cup doesn’t even waver. Genji is pretty sure he’s never been hungrier than he is right now.

  
  
Slowly, he sits down and crosses his legs in front of the tray. In the bowl is a broth, golden and garnished with a clover. The tea looks to be matcha, and it’s also garnished with a clover. The spoon, however, is a little different. There’s an engraving in the shallow part, but it’s a four-leaved clover instead of the three-leaved clovers decorating the soup and the tea. 

Genji wonders if he’s being overly superstitious when he removes the garnishes and tosses the spoon away. 

That strange voice warned him of temptation. The proverb- Genji knows it. Hanzo told it to him once, said it had to do with temptation and things appearing differently than they really are. Genji knows it’s a stretch- hell, it hardly makes any sense at all- but Genji is nearly positive he’s being tested.

He takes off his visor and sips from the soup. It’s probably average, but Genji is so happy to finally be eating that he just doesn’t care. The broth is gone in an instant. The tea is quick to follow.    
He sighs happily. It feels unfamiliar to smile, but he’s smiling. Before anybody can see, though, Genji puts his visor back on and stands up. He replaces the spoon (though the garnishes are nowhere to be found) and fixes everything back up neatly. For good measure, he stands up and bows gratefully.

It’s an exercise in insanity. Genji  _ thinks _ there’s nobody here (although the hot soup and fresh matcha set out to prove him wrong), but, so far, his efforts to please the things lurking where he can’t see have turned out well. He’ll give this place the benefit of the doubt for now. At the very worst, there’s no one here, but at least he wouldn’t have embarrassed himself in front of anyone.

Maybe it’s worse to mock the person watching him, though.

Genji sighs. This is all very stressful. Yet another thing forgetting would cure.

He almost wants to turn back, but he remembers seeing one more door down the hall he’d chosen. Genji, all too familiar with curiosity and it’s less-than-desireable side effects, but he decides he’ll give into his own stupidity just this once. Whatever’s hiding behind that door might kill him, or it might make all of his wildest dreams come true! 

  
  
Gotta take a chance! Columbus did, right?

Genji walks down the hall, and that odd mechanical buzz comes back. Genji had always thought it came from him now that his robotic half was weathering down, but- it sounds like it’s coming from that last doorway. 

He peeks inside.

The room is almost entirely dark, masked with a blackness darker than the deepest abyss. However, something Genji can’t fathom as a shape glows an otherworldly ultramarine in the darkness. Genji can recognize an omnic light array at the very top- only two blue pinpricks. Based on that, Genji can work out where the body is. Around it’s neck is an orbiting circle of brilliant eyes staring directly at Genji. Genji knows those eyes.

The cyborg turns around and walks away.


	3. ३

Genji is not equipped to put up with this.

He knew there was something here. Some profound monster hiding in the dark, taking a shape Genji can’t fathom. Doesn’t even want to fathom.

Genji will forget a different way. He’s not going to keep looking at that thing. It makes his head hurt. His brain melts and his body trembles in a way it never has and never should. Genji is not afraid of anything. That’s in his design. Fearless, unafraid in the face of certain death.

That thing is worse than death. Every fibre, real and fake, screams it in Genji’s ears.

Suddenly, the ringing returns and it screams so much louder. He crumples like a flower under a boot, and curls up into a little ball. He can’t move. Can’t breathe. Can’t think or speak or do anything at all.

That ringing is the work of the devil. Some ancient ability. It’s probably that monster’s fault. 

**“Come back here.”**

Genji is not in the state to do that right now. Yet, he does. Slowly, he turns himself around and drags himself back towards the door. Anything to make that fucking ringing leave his mind.

Indeed, it subsides. He manages to get back on his feet, and turns to look into the room again. Indeed, the thing is still there. Genji can sense it’s smugness. 

**“You are rude.”** The thing observes, almost placid in tone.  **“You didn’t even say so much as a simple hello.”**

Genji is so dumbstruck that he can’t even bring himself to be offended. He doesn’t speak, only stares.

  
  
The shapes are slowly beginning to register. He’s got no idea what the four glowing lines that sit under the eyes are, but it seems like the other lines trace it’s body. No lights to identify the lower half, but the feet seem to be… floating off the ground, as if the thing’s legs are tucked beneath it.

**“You are not mute. I’ve heard you speak.”** The creature purls.

Suddenly and abruptly, Genji remembers that voice. His face twists into a grimace- his default, if you please.

“You were in my dream.” He pronounces slowly. “You told me to not eat the apple.”

The thing makes an approving noise.  **“Did you appreciate my advice? You remembered it well.”**

Genji wishes this thing would get out of his head. “Don’t appreciate dream invasions.” He mutters, words clipped. “What the hell are you?”

**“You often thought of me as a monster or a demon before this point in time.”** The thing muses.  **“I am still rather unsure what I am now, but you may continue calling me a monster. It is an esteemed title.”**

“You are a vague individual.” Genji huffs. “Would you at least come out into the light so I can figure out what you are?”

The demon is silent for a while, but then it moves. Genji quickly gets out of the thing’s way, and regards it carefully in the light.

It’s like a purple Cthulu. The face, all tentacled and angry-looking, matches with the Lovecraftian beast almost exactly. The lines of light that Genji couldn’t identify turn out to be the underside of each of those tentacles. The shackles around it’s wrists and ankles glow with a similar light. It wears tattered harem pants and a decorated cloth around it’s waist. 

Genji isn’t sure whether he thinks the thing looks cool or just flat-out ugly. For the sake of keeping up appearances, he’ll go with ugly.

It comes to the cyborg’s attention that the monster looks distinctly robotic. Genji didn’t think it was possible for an omnic to even look like this.

“Were you  _ made  _ like this?” He asks, choosing his words carefully. He can almost feel the creature’s unimpressed glare. 

**“No.”** It replies shortly.  **“Nobody makes an omnic like this even if they want to.”**

Genji is starting to get fed up with all these weird cryptic answers. “Then why do you look like this? And why is there nobody here?” 

The monster is silent again, but it’s a little different this time. Genji is about to apologize (albeit reluctantly) when it pipes up again.  **“I’m sure you have heard rumors of a curse while traveling here.”** The creature muses, suddenly very invested in it’s fingernails.  **“Most of the others turned out like myself, but… they were less interested in staying alive after that. So, I am the last Shambali left here.”**

Well, damn. 

Genji tries not to get hung up on sympathy. He’s here for a reason, and it’s not to listen to the sob-story of a weird monk-monster. “I have a request of you.”

**“No one ever comes here for vacation anymore.”** The monk hums wistfully.  **“I know what you seek. Your mind is very open when you’re distracted.”**

That sends a nasty chill down Genji’s spine. “I would appreciate it if you didn’t explore my brain without my knowledge, monk.” He mutters. “Can you help me?”

**“Possibly.”** The monster replies.  **“There are a few conditions that must be met.”**

“Have I not completed enough trials? The courtyard of death was like hell.” Genji asks, impatience getting the better of him. He thought he was at the end of this damned quest.

**“My apologies. Things accumulate there.”** The monster says, bowing its head.  **“But, no. You do not have to complete any more trials that you do not wish to complete. I cannot stop you from counting every apple in the orchards, if that is something you wish to do.”**

Genji can’t imagine ever wanting to do that. He decides to glean over that last bit for the sake of moving this conversation along faster. “What do I need to wait for? I’ve already been saddled with these memories for long enough.” 

**“I can only influence so much, Genji.”** The creature answers.  **“I can explore the depths of the mind as much as I want, but causing things to happen requires you to allow it.”**

“I allow it.” Genji says quickly. 

  
  
**“But you don’t.”** The creature counters, keeping it’s voice even.  **“** **_You_ ** **want to forget, but your body and your mind want to keep as many memories intact as possible. It is the objective of the soul itself.”**

It takes every ounce of willpower in Genji’s body to keep from rolling his eyes. He figured he’d be met with some spiritualist bullshit, but this has got to be going over the line. “Fine. What do I have to do?” 

**“Acclimate to the idea of losing what you came here to lose. Get used to the idea of not knowing anything but your name and your motor skills. Try your hardest to imagine belonging in this body you hate so strongly.”**

“This is going to take a while, isn’t it?” Genji asks. He can’t read the expressions of this monster very well, but he can sense when someone’s smiling.

**“I am afraid so.”**


	4. ४

Genji and the creature stand there in silence for a while. 

“Well, where do I go?” Genji asks. “Do I just stay here? Go back down the mountain and hope I get my shit together?”

**“Since I believe you will need guidance, I think you should stay here. However, I will not stop you if you choose to leave.”** The creature muses, turning and returning to the dark room from whence it had come.  **“I am usually here, meditating. I can accompany you if you would like to talk with someone.”**

While Genji doesn’t particularly enjoy the silence he’s been made to endure, he wonders how long it would be before this monster tricks him into telling secrets he doesn’t want to tell, or doing things he doesn’t want to do. 

He wonders if keeping his secrets is worth losing his sanity. 

“You know this place better than myself.” Genji says after a moment or two. “I would appreciate it if you could show me where to sleep and shower and eat. That sort of thing.” 

The creature emerges from the darkness again, the eyes circling it’s neck orbiting a little faster. Genji is shocked into silence by the near-childish display of excitement.  **“It would be my pleasure, Genji.”** It replies. 

Genji remembers the thing calling him by his name once before, but this time he remembers he hasn’t told his name to the creature. “How is it that you know my name?”

**“Open mind.”** The monster reminds him. 

“For someone so quick to point out that I am a rude individual, I find it strange that you neglect to tell me your own.”

Genji is beginning to sense a pattern of silence this creature maintains. Closing up when Genji asks a personal question.  **“I have not used it in a long while. Forgive me if it takes a moment for me to respond to it in the future.”** It explains. 

“Out with it.” Genji huffs, crossing his arms. “Your cryptic method of speech is intolerable.”

**“Zenyatta.”** It answers.  **“It seems I will also have to teach you tact and patience. You’re as dry as the hills of Gilboa.”**

Zenyatta. What a strange name. Genji is reminded of the old Shambali omnic who was assassinated in London. Mondatta, he believes. Perhaps it’s a theme among Shambali. 

“Zenyatta, then.” Genji repeats. “Show me around. We’re playing tour guide.” 

Zenyatta doesn’t grace Genji’s impertenence with a reply, merely breezing past him and beckoning Genji to follow. Genji doesn’t like to heel, so he catches up and walks side-by-side with the monster. The silence is… strange. Genji isn’t used to such quiet when that terrible ringing doesn’t accompany it. 

Zenyatta seems perfectly content with the silence, though. It occurs to Genji that Zenyatta must have been sitting up here in total and absolute silence for a very, very long time.

Genji is led down the corridor he didn’t further explore. They pass by what remains of his little camp. Honestly, it looks a little depressing when Genji stands up like this. 

**“Did you enjoy the food I set out for you this morning?”** Zenyatta asks, floating down to examine Genji’s barren satchel.  **“You had been becoming increasingly hungry. While I consume small animals like those you saw in the courtyard, I am uninterested in dealing with a starved cyborg.”**

“I- what?” Genji is too surprised by the latter part of that statement to answer Zenyatta’s question. “You left all of those dead things in that courtyard? I thought it was supposed to ward me away or test me or something.” 

**“Oh, it was meant to test you, yes. It is the only courtyard that connects the two sides of the monastery.”** Zenyatta replies.  **“It is also merely convenient.”**

“Why are they all fresh corpses, though?” Genji asks. “And why are there so many?”

**“I only consume what’s in their minds. Bodies are far too much hassle.”** Zenyatta shrugs.  **“As for volume.. I am a hungry individual. I do not know what else to tell you.”**

Genji really doesn’t understand this Zenyatta guy at all. “Can you eat my brain?” 

**“I could try.”** Zenyatta supposes.  **“You will probably fight back. Animals who do not understand that I am taking their lives away don’t see any reason to fight.”**

“What if I was sleeping?”

**“Oh, that would make it very easy, yes.”**

Genji has an unpleasant taste in his mouth. This monster, Zenyatta… how is Genji meant to trust it? Him? Genji doesn’t even know for certain what pronouns to use. 

“Are you a he?” He asks after a period of deep thought.

Zenyatta laughs, and it’s the most unearthly noise Genji has ever heard.  **“I am a he.”** The monk replies.  **“You are well-versed in delicate and respectful conversation, aren’t you, Genji?”**

It’s a joke. Genji knows that, but he doesn’t laugh. He can’t really fathom Zenyatta making jokes. “Guess not.” 

Zenyatta doesn’t bother replying. Genji figures he’s just not a good conversationalist in general. They continue onward, and the hall opens into what might have been a dining hall once. It appears to have been reclaimed by nature, as there are vines and weeds cropping up from between the tables. 

**“You may eat wherever you like. This is a more open area than the gazebo, though. I will put the food out when you decide where you want to eat.”** Zenyatta says, already turning to continue the tour.

“Can I not make my own food?” Genji asks. “I can take care of myself.”

**“If that is what you prefer, I will allow it. The pantry is in the kitchen.”** Zenyatta replies. He sounds a little dejected.  **“Everything is non-perishable, you may select anything you want so long as it’s not a rat or something.”**

Genji nods, smiling a little bit. “I don’t plan on eating rats, no.” 

Zenyatta bows his head. Genji can feel that smile radiating off of him again.  **“Then let’s move on.”**

Genji finds himself looking at the orbs circling Zenyatta’s neck more often than not. They all stare back at him, some of them blinking every now and again. It’s vertigo-inducing, watching them float around his neck like tiny planets. 

**“I can see through the mala, you know.”** Zenyatta remarks after a good long while of him watching them. Is that what they’re called?  **“Do you stare at everyone like that, Genji?”**

“You don’t see a guy with flying eyeballs circling around his neck very often.” Genji murmurs. “What are mala?”

**“For humans, they are blessed beads. Mine were always able to float, but they were less… unsightly. I was never able to see through them prior to being affected, either.”** Zenyatta answers.  **“Regardless, they still work for their intended purpose. Being able to see through them is just a side effect.”**

“What’s the intended purpose?” Genji asks. 

**“Defense.”**

What has Zenyatta encountered up here? Genji carefully plucks one out of the air and hefts it. It’d certainly pack a punch. “Do you need to defend yourself often?”

  
  
**“Certainly not. Only twice has something come up here with intent to harm my dwelling and my person. They have yet to return.”**

“Who were they?” Genji asks. “I can’t imagine anyone knowing you’re up here.”

**“A long woman, with purple skin and dark hair.”** The monster recalls.  **“She would be a beautiful woman, if she wasn’t so hellbent on killing me.”**

**  
** **  
** Genji bites his tongue. Yikes. Widow had disappeared for months at some points (Gabe said they were private missions. Genji never questioned it) but he had no idea that people were coming up here. Why kill Zenyatta? He seems-

Harmless?

“That sounds annoying.” Genji replies evenly. “Why not kill her?” 

**“I find less value in killing. They don’t remember the lesson you’ve taught them.”** Zenyatta says. One of the eyes turns and looks the monster in the face. How strange it must be, looking yourself in the eyes.  **“She will not come back.”**   
  


Thank God. “She sounds unpleasant. I hope I don’t meet her.” 

**“Lying to me is futile, Genji.”**

Genji is so jarred with fear and dread that he stops in his tracks. Zenyatta doesn’t look back, but the eyes watch Genji intently. Genji shakes his head and catches up with Zenyatta. The rest of the walk is deathly quiet, though Genji’s mind is anything but. 

How much does Zenyatta know, anyway? Genji needs to close his mind, for the love of God. The whole point was to come up here, get rid of all his nasty memories, and leave. It would have been easy if this freaky thing wasn’t up here to haunt his dreams and spout proverbs.

Does he know about Blackwatch? Does he know about  _ Hanzo _ ?

Genji decides he will lie all he likes. Zenyatta might be able to read his mind, but he can’t influence it. Genji will say whatever he likes and there’s nothing Zenyatta can do about it.

They come into some small living quarters, consisting of a cot, a desk, and a shrine for a god Genji isn’t familiar with. 

**“No one has slept here in decades.”** Zenyatta mumbles, voice hollow.  **“You can sleep here. Or- you may continue living in your ramshackle little tent.”**

“I’ll stay here.” Genji says automatically. “You gonna go back to your little room?”

**“If my company disturbs you so, yes.”** Zenyatta answers.  **“If you think you can tolerate me, though, I would like to stay out and look around. It has been a while since I was awake.”**

Genji supposes he can live with that. “Can I come with you? I have more questions.”

Silence.  **“You may. I will answer what I choose to and what I don’t.”**

“That sounds fair.” Genji nods. “Where are you going?”

**“There is an old prayer room on the other side of the mountain I have not seen in a long time. I would like to meditate there. Reflect on you and your… interesting personality.”** Zenyatta explains.  **“You may join me, so long as you’re quiet.”**

Genji chuckles. The noise is followed by a different kind of silence, one Zenyatta hasn’t shown him before. He’s staring at Genji up-front, mala included. 

“Yes, I can laugh, big surprise.” Genji huffs, rolling his eyes. “I want to come with you. Being alone is exhausting in a place like this.”

Zenyatta nods.  **“Yes, it is.”**


	5. ५

Genji and Zenyatta travel slowly. Genji finds himself wondering if it’s him dragging his feet or Zenyatta. Well, metaphorically, in the monster’s case.

The cyborg finds himself mulling over one question in the silence: how does Zenyatta’s telepathy work? Does it happen in real time? It would certainly be embarrassing if Zenyatta knew Genji was thinking about this so intently. Zenyatta doesn’t seem to react when Genji actively thinks out questions for him. 

Genji decides asking aloud is probably easier. “Can you read thoughts as they appear?” He asks.

**“The short answer is no.”** Zenyatta replies thoughtfully.  **“The long answer is that I must concentrate to read what you have in your mind. Make a conscious effort to hear what your brain has to tell me.”**

“Does my brain tell a lot?” Genji asks, thinking about a certain brother of his. “You told me I have an open mind.” 

**“I know there are things in your mind that you do not want anyone to know, including yourself. I have not explored those parts, for the sake of your privacy.”** The monster answers.  **“But, I know everything you have no shame about. Well- minimal shame.”**

Genji’s face flushes. Fuck- He’s done some decidedly questionable things. He was worried about familial memories, but memories involving attractive strangers are a different kind of secret. “Is that how you knew I was familiar with- Widow?”

Zenyatta nods sagely.  **“Yes. What you do and do not choose to lie about perplexes me.”**

“I’m using my own discretion.” Genji replies shortly. “Can you sense anything coming from me in real time? Emotions?”

Zenyatta lets a small chuckle escape him. Genji will probably never get used to it.  **“Almost. I can sense positivity and negativity. Harmony and discord.”**

To demonstrate, Zenyatta pulls two mala from their orbits. One of them lights up with sunshine-yellow flames, and, in contrast, the other is consumed in plum-purple fire. Genji is pleasantly surprised by them. 

He’s drawn towards the purple one first. “What do these things do..?” He asks, reaching forward to touch it.

Zenyatta pulls the mala away from him and shoots Genji with what can only be an impatient glare.  **“That’s the discord orb. The** **_bad_ ** **one. Don’t touch it.”**

Genji withdraws, looking a little sheepish and very chastened. “Okay.” He mutters. “What about the good one?” 

**“It would behoove you to listen to me, instead of being hypnotized by the shiny glowy thing.”** Zenyatta says in a huff.  **“Harmony orb. Brings about peace and healing to the one being affected by it.”**

Both of the orbs return to normal and resume their places. Genji tries hard to remember the train of thought that brought him here. “We are off-topic.” He says after a while. “What was I asking you about?’

**“I believe you wanted to know about how I knew of your affiliation with the long purple woman. Widowmaker. Then we got, as you say, “off-topic”.”** Zenyatta answers. Genji hates how seriously Zenyatta takes his questions. It makes him feel inferior.

He  _ is _ inferior. It’s not a pretty thought, but it’s a true one. “What else do you know about me?” 

**“Let’s see.”** Zenyatta hums, tapping at the very tips of his tentacles in deep thought. That can’t be good.  **“You would not allow me to know much about your family or childhood life, but I saw a little bit. You are currently a member of a black ops division known as Blackwatch. You wish to distance yourself from it, but you don’t know how. You are also… an** **_experienced_ ** **individual.”**

“Don’t tell me-” 

**“It is not my fault, Genji. You, apparently, have absolutely no shame regarding your choice of nighttime activity.”** Zenyatta shrugs. Genji can feel the smugness radiating off of Zenyatta like a beam of sunshine.  **“I am only surprised that you have no interest in women.”**

Genji has never been more affronted. “What’s that supposed to mean,  _ monk? _ ”

**“You’re arrogant, rude, shallow, dishonest, and unintelligent.”** The creature remarks, obviously happy to put Genji in his place.  **“If I didn’t know what I know now, I would assume you to be a womanizing scumbag. Your respect for your partners proves me wrong, sadly.”**

“And what is it that  _ you _ like, Zenyatta Holier-Than-Thou?” Genji asks, accusatory. “Why should I believe you’re so much more dignified and refined than I am?” 

**“I am sworn to chastity.”** Zenyatta answers, quieting down a little.  **“I could not answer that question if I wanted to.”**

“No one is immune to temptation, monk. There is no one left to punish you for sacrelige but whatever you worship.” Genji hisses through his teeth. “Go on. I’ll only judge you as harshly as you judge me.” 

Zenyatta is quiet again. He seems pensive- deep in thought. Genji had set out to prove that Zenyatta was prudish, and made Genji superior in that regard, but maybe Zenyatta has had a brush with impiety. 

**“I do not believe someone like you is truly interested in knowing the sexual perversions of something like myself.”** He aswers finally.  **“It is far too personal a question for me to answer after knowing you for all of six hours.”**

Genji’s interest is properly piqued. Perversions..? “You’re into  _ weird  _ stuff.” Genji notes, voice sly. It can’t mean anything good, to be sure. Zenyatta just shakes his head.

**“You are a vile individual, Genji.”**

The rest of the trip, while short, is silent. While Genji has no idea if it’s true, he chooses to believe he won that argument. 

They come into a large, circular room. There are five thin windows, all displaying the outside world. Nothing but clouds and snow. A few mats are stacked neatly in the corner, collecting dust. Zenyatta selects one and dusts off the cobwebs. Genji follows suit. He’s never meditated before. Maybe it’s just sitting and being quiet for a while. Genji can do that, easy. He could use some rest and relaxation. 

Zenyatta situates himself on the mat, and Genji sits next to him. He matches Zenyatta’s cross-legged position and puts his hands the same way. This is strange. Certainly not an activity Genji is familiar with.

Ten minutes in, Genji is nodding off. This meditation stuff must be an omnic method of napping. All the eyes on the mala are shut, Zenyatta  _ must  _ be powered off or on sleep mode or whatever. Genji lays on his back and crosses his arms over his torso, closing his eyes and exhaling deeply. This is nice. Would be better if it wasn’t a concrete floor, but Genji’s used to sleeping under less than desirable conditions. It doesn’t take very long for him to fall asleep.

When he wakes up, he’s in that field again. This time, he spots Zenyatta. 

  
  
He’s sitting directly under the tree, legs still crossed and eyes still closed. Genji is amazed at Zenyatta’s ability to sleep in this weird dream world and the real world at the same time.

Genji watches him for a while. Studies him, how his parts move and how that strange glow pulses in an ancient, arcane way. He finds himself examining the shackles more than anything. Why are they there? Zenyatta knows how to fend for himself- why not remove them? 

The shackles glow, too. Maybe they were built for Zenyatta. Some weird magical stuff. 

Genji doesn’t know a lot about the magic in the world. He knows a little about his dragon (alas, not paying attention while being taught about a family spirit  _ does _ have repercussions), but he keeps that to himself for the most part. The last time he showed off his Dragonblade to someone, he got stuck with Blackwatch. 

God knows what kinds of nightmarish experiments a person like Zenyatta would conduct.

Zenyatta disappears. Genji is quite alone now. Maybe Zenyatta woke up. 

Genji would like to wake up now. He doesn’t. Well, that doesn’t really matter. Genji will take all the sleep he can get, even if it’s less restful than sleeping dreamlessly.

He stays in the dream for a while. Sometimes, he hears the softest whispers. Other times, the ringing teases him at the edge of his consciousness. Genji stops dreaming, but he still hears the barely-there ringing and the murmurs. The words are almost English, but Genji is too far gone to focus. 

The cyborg’s in his room when he wakes up, on the cot. Something obstructs his vision. He pulls it off and examines it. A small piece of paper, with beautiful calligraphy written on it.

Zenyatta must be showing off at this point.

**_You fell asleep, so I brought you to bed. If you cannot meditate, I am willing to teach you. It may help you in achieving your goal._ **

Genji smiles a little. He’ll take up Zenyatta on that tomorrow.


	6. ६

A grand total of two weeks pass.

Genji follows Zenyatta around and asks him questions. Genji “meditates” while Zenyatta meditates, and they sometimes talk at night, about all kinds of things. Mostly, though, they talk about Genji’s progress. 

Zenyatta will lie about it some nights. Genji’s bad days bring setbacks, but Zenyatta doesn’t bring it up. It will only cause more harm, he knows.

The monster does enjoy being around Genji (it’s not much of a secret), but he knows well when Genji needs space. 

Today, Genji needs space. 

He’s been in the practice courtyard all day. He set up a makeshift dummy and he’s been tearing into it all day. Genji’s mad. Mad at life. Mad at how he can’t do what he wanted to do. It infuriates him, being tantalized by what he knows he’s so close to getting.

It’s right in front of his face. Right in front of his stupid face.

He stabs his  _ odachi _ into the dummy’s face. Normally, fighting can diffuse some anger, but today’s been especially awful. He wants to scream at something. Zenyatta, maybe, though Zenyatta would probably kick his ass. 

He puts away the  _ odachi _ and takes out the smaller  _ wakizashi _ . He skewers it into the faceless dummy over and over until it’s a mess of packed cotton. When he stops, his teeth are bared and he’s breathing hard.

Is this worth it? Trying to become zen so he can get rid of this obnoxious baggage?

He tries avoiding thinking about how much Zenyatta will know when Genji is ready.

Zenyatta, all the meanwhile, has been observing. He watches from the darkness in the attached hallway. Genji is unaware, but that’s how it often is when Zenyatta is watching him. The monster leaves before Genji can turn and see him. It’s for the best.

Slowly, Genji gets to his feet and collects the scattered  _ shuriken _ around the spot of the massacre. Days like these, he can hardly stand looking at his own body. What mangle of flesh and machine he’s supposed to accept. It’s not… him. It’s ugly. Genji is ugly. Even his face makes him feel sick.

Zenyatta can feel a great deal of discord coming from the combat yard. He is familiar with the space Genji wants, but whether or not Genji needs it has come into question.

Zenyatta returns to the courtyard and surveys Genji carefully. Genji looks back at him and squints. 

“What?” 

**“Forgive me noting the obvious, but you are very upset.”** Zenyatta says.

Genji rolls his eyes. “Yeah.” He nods. “Leave me alone, Zenyatta.” 

Zenyatta approaches Genji carefully.  **“I will not leave you alone.”** He murmurs, careful to keep his body language open.  **“I do not think giving you space has been helping you.”**

“And how would you know?” Genji asks slowly. “You don’t know me as well as you think you do.”

**“I can make a guess.”** Zenyatta answers. He gestures to the shagged dummy.  **“Humor me.”**

Genji bites back a scowl. “Fine.” 

Zenyatta settles on the ground and pats the grass in front of him. Genji sits with him. He anticipates meditation, but Zenyatta doesn’t close his eyes or relax.  Instead, the monster produces a pair of black gloves from his hood. They’re made of a thin, strong material, like nylon. He puts both of the gloves on, and holds out one of his hands.

“You’re joking.” 

**“You’ll know when I am joking, Genji.”** Zenyatta says.  **“Hold my hand.”**

Genji begrudgingly puts his human hand in Zenyatta’s. It’s very warm, likely from the activity. Zenyatta turns his own cold, robotic hand right-side up and laces his fingers with Genji’s. Seems as if Zenyatta’s chill pervades the gloves.

“That’s not necessary and you know it.” Genji hisses under his breath. 

**“Perhaps not.”** Zenyatta cedes.  **“Do you like holding hands? With anyone, not just me.”**

Genji’s eyebrows draw together in frustration. “You know the answer to that question. Tormenting me does not improve my mood.” 

**“I suppose you’re right. My apologies.”**

One of Zenyatta’s mala becomes a harmony orb, and floats between the both of them. A beam of light attaches itself to Genji’s body, and Genji relaxes immediately.

“What are you doing?” He asks. 

**“The harmony orb is meant to bring about harmony. You are not very… harmonious.”** Zenyatta murmurs.  **“I am trying to make you a little more relaxed.”**

Genji is conflicted. He doesn’t know if he wants to relax like this. He struggles a little, tries to wiggle out of Zenyatta’s hand, but Zen holds him tightly. 

**“Not yet, Genji.”** Zenyatta says carefully.  **“You must relax.”**

Genji settles down again. Inhales and exhales. The harmony orb makes it easier to not think, to not dwell on bad things.

**“Very good.”** Zenyatta praises.  **“Did you know that you’re meditating right now, Genji?”**

Genji shakes his head. He thinks speaking might ruin the magic. Zenyatta laughs a little bit, and Genji feels a hand in his hair. It’s nice. 

**“Forgive my boldness. I remember seeing that you enjoy having your hair touched.”**

Genji nods. It’s interesting, talking less than Zenyatta does. Genji’s not used to just shutting up- he likes to add his opinions. Now that he’s with someone who can sense his opinions, not speaking is a nicer alternative. 

Zenyatta pulls his hands away, but the harmony orb remains. Better safe than sorry.  **“Do you feel better?”**

Genji nods again. “Yes. I- apologize.” He says quickly. Apologies are probably Genji’s least favorite thing. Zenyatta, however, seems grateful just to get the sentiment out of Genji. Such is to be expected. 

**“You do not need to apologize for hurting, Genji. I will accept any harsh words you have to give me.”** Zenyatta replies. He seems… honest. Genji doesn’t like that too much.  **“Please speak to me if you want another harmony orb. You don’t need to destroy your training items.”**

Genji sighs, looking away. “I got carried away.” He explains shortly. “I will fix it tomorrow.” 

**“You don’t need to do everything alone, Genji. I’m here to teach you to let me in.”** Zenyatta reminds him.  **“It could help if you just…** **_accept_ ** **that I want to help.”**

“I know.” Genji mutters. “I’ll… try.” 

**“You have made progress, Genji. I know it doesn’t seem like it, but you are adjusting.”** The monster tells him.  **“You must have faith in yourself.”**

Genji is quiet when Zenyatta says that. He knows why he hesitates, but it makes him feel weak. Weaker than he really is. 

**“Do you believe me, Genji?”**

Genji shakes his head. “Not yet.” He murmurs, trying his hardest to be honest with himself. 

**“You will.”**


	7. ७

The next few nights are… hard.

Daytime is fine. Genji and Zenyatta are glued to the other’s hip, making food together and walking around together. Zenyatta doesn’t take part in Genji’s training, but he watches most of the time. It’s fascinating. Zenyatta’s experience with combat isn't very educational most of the time, considering he’s busy trying to save his own skin rather than studying how the opponent uses light-footedness to their advantage.

They part ways at dusk. Genji showers and prays, and Zenyatta settles in for nightly sleep. Genji doesn’t really know what it is that Zenyatta does at night. He isn’t exactly sure how much he wants to know.

Genji has nightmares. Every night, without fail. Even when he thinks he’s too tired to even imagine a nightmare, a nightmare comes. Always a little different, but they feature three main themes. Hanzo, ringing, and overwhelming volumes of death. 

Zenyatta finds it difficult to sleep when whimpers and raspy screams pervade his room. 

He gets up and peeks into Genji’s room. The cyborg wriggles and turns every few seconds, like he can’t get comfortable. He sleeps with the visor on. Surely, that’s not comfortable.

Zenyatta examines Genji’s visor carefully. He finds the switch that removes it and flicks it, taking off the visor carefully, so as not to touch Genji’s skin directly. Zenyatta hasn’t seen Genji without the visor on before, but- he isn’t overcome with disgust or shock like he was expecting to be.

It looks like the rest of Genji. The jaw appears to be prosthetic, and it’s as decorated by scar tissue as the rest of Genji’s human half. Zenyatta is pleasantly surprised. 

Genji suddenly flinches, and Zenyatta withdraws, fully prepared to dart out of the room. Thankfully, Genji doesn’t wake, just mewls and weakly reaches for something. How sad, dreams and nightmares are. Zenyatta thinks life would be much easier for humans if they slept completely still, with no physical stimulants to bother them. That’s how Zenyatta sleeps. Far easier. 

Genji whispers sharply in Japanese. Zenyatta could not have a faint clue as to what he’s saying, but Genji sounds desperate. His chest still heaves. It suddenly occurs to Zenyatta that Genji could be dreaming (nightmaring?) about what his mind refuses to show Zenyatta. 

Hurriedly, Zenyatta finds those gloves again. He puts them on - Zenyatta is colder than he should be, the temperature shock would definitely wake Genji. That, and.. Zenyatta is a little afraid of touching Genji directly. He likes the unknown, but some unknown things are quite daunting.

He touches Genji’s forehead as softly as he can manage. When Zenyatta comes to, he’s in a dojo. In front of him are two people. One of them is desperately crawling away on the floor- he’s been mangled to the point of falling apart- and a man is chasing him with an _odachi_. 

Zenyatta feels cold. More lifeless than usual. His audio processors start detecting a low, pitchy whine. A ringing.

He leaves Genji’s nightmare quickly. It feels far too invasive, seeing things like that. Genji described it as “losing his humanity” once. Zenyatta has never been human, but he thinks he might have the same stance as Genji if that was to happen to him. 

But he doesn’t want to leave Genji like this. 

**“Genji. Wake up.”** Zenyatta calls, shaking Genji’s shoulder a little bit. **“Please wake up.”**

Genji’s eyes snap open, but he lays completely still. His eyes are wide and trained on Zenyatta for a long time. Zenyatta stares back, though his expression (unchanging as it is) is significantly less intense.

“Why are you here?” He croaks hollowly. “Why is my visor off?”

**“You were.. screaming. More than usual.”** The monster answers softly. **“I feared the visor was restricting your breathing.”**

Genji touches his face gently. It’s been a hot minute since the visor actually came off. “Did you… look at my dream?”

Zenyatta shakes his head. **“No.”** He answers. **“I feared it would be overstepping your boundaries.”**

Genji sighs in relief. Regret. 

“Thank you, Zenyatta.” He whispers hollowly. “Could I have, um... the-”

Zenyatta has a harmony orb before Genji is finished speaking. It attaches to Genji, and the cyborg relaxes immediately. Zenyatta’s hand finds Genji’s, and squeezes it. Instead of having closed eyes this time, Zenyatta stares right at Genji. Genji feels like he’s been seen through. 

**“I want your honesty, Genji.”** Zenyatta says after some deep, heavy silence. **“Do you trust me?”**

Genji nods. “You’ve given me no reason not to.”

Zenyatta enters Genji’s mind again. It’s a bit more of a fight, with Genji knowing what Zenyatta is doing now. He pores through Genji’s memory, but all traces of the nightmare have been filed away in the part Zenyatta can’t reach. He tries hard to find even a bare droplet of memory within it, but it’s futile.

He leaves. **“You don’t need to tell me you trust me to make me feel better.”** The monster says gently. **“We have only known each other for three weeks or so. I, by all intents and purposes, am a monster.”**

“I… think a lot of things about you, Zenyatta, but I don’t think you’re a monster. That word goes beyond appearance.” Genji replies. His tone is never truly delicate, but Zenyatta thinks that some tenderness is all he can truly ask for. “As for trust- I trust you more than my mind would have you believe.”

Now, it’s Zenyatta who’s having a hard time trusting. But he’s willing to believe Genji when he speaks so honestly. 

**“I understand.”** He rumbles. **“How do you see me, Genji?”**

Genji thinks on that one for a moment. “Sensei, perhaps? A teacher.”

Zenyatta was hoping for “friend”, but sensei sounds… interesting. The less mentally sound side of Zenyatta finds the statement of “sensei” most exciting. **“I am… surprised. I haven’t taught you all that much.”**

“That’s what the rest of my stay here is for.” Genji says with a crooked smile. 

How sweet. Zenyatta wonders how much Genji really smiles under that visor. **“That is a very wise way of looking at things, my student.”**

Genji’s eyes widen a little at the name. Zenyatta considers taking it back when Genji’s voice stops his doubt. “See? I am learning.” 

**“You are.”** Zenyatta agrees. **“You have improved. Should I leave you to your devices?”**

Genji wants to say no. Ask Zenyatta to sleep over, so they may discuss all manners of things. He doesn’t, though. Cowardice is a powerful habit. “Yes. Thank you for waking me.” 

**“Of course. I would not want you to poison yourself with thoughts of such… negativity.”** Zenyatta answers. He’s picking and choosing his words carefully, even Genji can tell. Why, though, is a mystery the cyborg cannot solve. **“It would have terrible effects on your progress.”**

Progress. Not care, just progress. Genji shouldn’t have to remind himself of that.

He nods sagely. “It would. Goodnight, sensei- I will see you tomorrow.” 

**“Goodnight, my student. Yes, you will.”**


	8. ८

The tomorrow Genji speaks of is an obnoxiously sunny day.

  
  
Genji wakes up and throws the covers off -- far too warm -- and lays in bed for a while. His annoyance simmers evenly, though it doesn’t boil. Genji is not a fan of being woken up uncomfortable. 

He gets up and peers outside. Far too sunny, but Genji knows Zenyatta will bother him if he stays in his room all day. Into the world he goes. The monastery is always very cold (almost unnaturally so), but today’s unforgiving sun seems quite intent upon warming things up a degree or two. A fine day to train.

He goes to the courtyard and is a little surprised to see Zenyatta waiting there for him.

“Sensei.” He greets, albeit carefully.

**“Genji.”** Zenyatta replies in kind.  **“It is a fine day. Your repair job on the training dummy has withstood the test of time.”**

Genji nods. He’s still suspicious of Zenyatta hanging out in the training yard so early in the morning. “What are you doing here?”

  
  
**“Challenging you.”** Zenyatta answers. Genji detects the slightest hint of coyness in his voice. **“I have been watching you fight for long enough.”**

  
  
“I assume you think you know how to beat me, then?” Genji asks, raising an eyebrow. Zenyatta’s confidence is astounding.

**“Possibly. I will not be terribly shocked if I don’t.”**

Genji draws his  _ wakizashi  _ and crouches. “Fine.”

  
  
He jumps for Zenyatta, who darts to the side. Genji manages to catch himself on the tumble, and uses the opportunity to turn on his heel and pounce again. Zenyatta is slower to dodge, but he does escape. Genji feels like a cat being taunted by a toy.

  
  
He’s about to jump again when one of Zenyatta’s mala whizzes past his face. “ _ Nandayo-  _ Are you trying to kill me?” 

  
  
**“I am trying to beat you.”** Zenyatta replies, hurling another mala at Genji. The cyborg dodges easily, but it’s still astounding to see Zenyatta fight him so nonchalantly.  **“Start fighting back. You cannot dodge forever.”**

  
  
That’s true. Genji darts to the left of another mala and manages to reflect it just in time for it to fly past Zenyatta and become embedded in the wall. Both of them pause for a moment. It’s been a while since Genji could hear his heartbeat so distinctly, but all the action has got him hyped up.

  
  
**“That is very impressive, Genji.”** Zenyatta says, nodding.  **“Next time, though, you have to actually hit-”**

  
  
Zenyatta is swiftly cut off by Genji launching himself at the monk and sending them both crashing to the ground. Zenyatta is restricted by both shoulders being pressed harshly against the grass. Genji sits above him,  _ wakizashi _ pressed firmly against the cables connecting Zenyatta’s head to his shoulders.

Through some miracle, Genji hasn’t touched any of Zenyatta’s chassis, only his clothes. Zenyatta must have influenced him on instinct.

  
  
Genji has never examined Zenyatta so closely before. For a being cursed by monstrous appearance and arcane abilities no other omnic possesses, the monster is masterfully crafted. Not a line out of place.

  
  
“I imagined that you, of all people, would know that talking shit lowers your chances of victory.” Genji says, eyes narrow. Zenyatta would think his expression to be deadly serious if he couldn’t hear the smug grin in Genji’s tone.   


**“I was hoping you’d wait for me to gloat.”** Zenyatta admits sheepishly.  **“Thinking about it now, however, it makes sense that you wouldn’t. Well done, my student.”**

  
  
Genji gets up off of Zenyatta, and Zenyatta floats back up to his cruising altitude. “Again?” Genji asks, sheathing the  _ wazikashi _ and resting his fists firmly on his waist. “I’ll go easy on you this time.”   
  


**“I would sooner have you cut off my head than go easy.”** Zenyatta replies. How matter-of-fact.  **“Twice more, then I will retire for the day.”**

The second fight goes about the same as the first. Zenyatta doesn’t gloat, but he pauses to assess some of the moves Genji uses, leaving him painfully open for a good attack. After about ten minutes of quick-paced dodging and attacking, they both tumble to the ground after Genji takes him down from behind. 

  
  
The third fight, however, emerges with a different victor. 

  
  
It starts out as normal. Genji dances around Zenyatta’s mala and repeatedly gets pushed back by a well-aimed kick. He doesn’t falter as much as he would have if he were whole, but his attacks are still effectively thwarted. Zenyatta’s mala have a pattern, Genji realizes. He tries to make Genji fall back with one mala, chases him with two mala, and tries to trip him forward with one mala. Fall back, chase, trip- 

  
  
Genji is preparing his next jump when a mala hits him in the back of the knee and knocks him clean over. Zenyatta is quick to sit on top of Genji and pin him in the same manner Genji had pinned Zenyatta. 

Fuck. This is weird.

**“I win.”** Zenyatta says triumphantly.  **“I used your** **_unfairly-attack-from-behind_ ** **method.”**

“That method is perfectly fair. You’re just butthurt.” Genji croaks. “Get off of me. You’re heavy.”

**“I think sitting here and bragging for a while is part of your fun. I’m merely participating.”** Zenyatta hums. He’s obviously trying to sound innocent and cutesy. Total geek.

“Have you not had your fun already? I’m being crushed.” Genji says in a huff. He’s not having much trouble speaking, though his face is all splotchy-red. Zenyatta chuckles. He withdraws, and Genji sits up, brushing off his front like he’s been offended in some way.  **“You are a remarkable adversary. I look forward to sparring with you again.”**

Genji thinks he looks forward to that, too. It’ll keep him plenty sharp, fighting someone as skittish and clever as Zen. Instead of saying all that, though. Genji nods curtly. In his time here, he’s learned that less words mean more. Shutting up is a relatively easy activity.

Zenyatta leaves the courtyard, and Genji finds himself following behind like a leaf in the wind. He doesn’t really have a subject in mind- he just wants company.

  
  
**“Is there any particular reason why you’re stalking after me in such a way, Genji?”** Zenyatta’s voice cuts clean through Genji’s brain fog. 

“I- uh.” The cyborg has entirely forgotten how to communicate. 

**“That is not an answer I understand.”** The monster says dryly. Genji rolls his eyes. Duh.

“I would like to keep speaking with you.” He manages to say, fueled purely by his unwillingness to humor Zenyatta’s dull assessments of Genji. “Dare I say it, hang out.” 

Genji has not witnessed Zenyatta at a true loss for words, but he’s seeing it now. All at once, the slit pupils of Zenyatta’s mala widen into big yawning abysses in the shape of ellipses. Genji is reminded of a cat’s eyes.   


  
**“I would like that too.”**


	9. ९

Genji is curious by nature.

  
  
He decides to fit exploring into his morning routine. Since he wakes so early, he wanders around the monastery until the sun comes up. Many curious details find him.

  
  
Tonight he decides to snoop through his own room. He’s never touched the desk or the shrine, too afraid of desecrating some magical part of history. His excuse is that history is best when someone actually knows it.

  
  
The top of the desk is finely laminated with thin, thin paper. The handwriting doesn’t match Zenyatta’s elegant calligraphy, rather, it’s efficient and small. It appears to match the contents of an agenda for a trip. Landmarks that Genji finds familiar are described. 

  
  
When Tower Bridge is mentioned, Genji identifies the landmarks as London’s. 

  
  
Hm. A trip to London. Maybe Shambali were allowed to take fancy all-expenses paid vacations to… give speeches. That’s what the odd agenda describes, at least.

  
  
Genji starts pilfering the drawers. One is full of small leaflets of blank paper. They’re thin as can be, like pages of a bible. 

The second has a tiny picture, covered in dust. It appears to be an omnic. They seem surprised, as if the picture is unplanned. Their array is different from Zenyatta’s.

The third drawer has an ancient omnic catalog. The cover advertises chroming services for any given omnic surface. The word “gold” has been circled in red marker, though the marker is slightly smudged. 

The fourth drawer is empty. There are small spaces with less dust than the others, as if the contents were hastily removed. Maybe supplies for that London trip.

  
  
The only real information Genji can glean from the contents of the desk is that they planned on going to London, they’d been chromed in gold  _ somewhere _ on their body, and… the strange little picture. How humbling, to look into someone’s life like that. A memory. 

Is that how Zenyatta feels, looking through what Genji remembers?

  
  
Genji has fond memories. They’re his solace. Zenyatta knows them. How odd, knowing someone has spectated something so terribly personal. But now Genji’s done it, too. Seen a memory that belongs to this strange person. 

Zenyatta said his fellow Shambali had killed themselves upon becoming monsters. The stranger in the photograph is dead. 

  
  
Genji doesn’t anticipate the little droplet of sadness that follows, but it happens. Maybe Zenyatta’s teachings really are working. He’s become more empathetic, at the very least. 

  
  
The shrine is the next thing to fall under Genji’s scrutiny. He kneels in front of it and starts examining the little trinkets. There’s a little incense waterfall, and some dried herbs. Genji doesn’t touch those, they seem like they might crumble into dust if he were to disturb them. The picture in the center of the shrine is not a godly figure that Genji recognises. 

  
  
It’s a picture of all the Shambali monks. Omnics. Some of them hold up sweet little peace signs. Two of them are holding flowers. At the front are two omnics that Genji finds most familiar. The surprised monk in the picture, and another monk.

  
  
They’re the only monk with elegant filigreed mala sitting around their neck in a circle. 

  
  
Genji considers this old picture of Zenyatta curiously. Though omnics can only express so much externally, Genji thinks the little peace sign he holds up shows plenty of personality. At least the old Zenyatta was happy - proof that, hey, maybe Zenyatta’s not entirely bogged by loss and the horror of what he’s become.

Maybe. Genji knows he’s got no say in the matter.

Genji finds it odd that there’s no godly figure, though. That’s what most shrines have, right? Maybe this picture is some magical picture Shambali worship. Or the Shambali worship the power of friendship. 

That’d certainly be cute, but Genji doesn’t think it’s quite true.

He slides the delicate picture from it’s frame and hides it under a panel of his armor. Safe little spot. He’s not sure why he takes the picture, but he likes having it. Though the thought is fairly cruel, even for Genji, he likes having a secret that belongs to Zenyatta, rather than vice versa. He has an advantage to something, even if he doesn’t know what that something is.

When he turns to leave the room, Zenyatta is already in the doorway. Genji nearly jumps out of his skin.

  
  
**“Put that back.”** Zenyatta says. His tone is shockingly unfriendly. 

  
  
Genji doesn’t ask why. It’s not his place to ask, anyway. The picture is neatly put away, and Genji stands up straight with both hands up. He doesn’t apologize. So far, he doesn’t see why he should.

“Who’s room is this?” He asks. It’s an honest question. Genji finds it to be reasonable, but by Zenyatta’s pointed silence, it would seem he’s the only one that thinks this way.

**“Yours. Your room.”** Zenyatta answers. Genji clenches his teeth to avoid rolling his eyes.

“You know that’s not the answer I am looking for, Zenyatta.”

Zenyatta is perfectly silent, and, god damn, it’s infuriating. Genji hates it, but he has to admit that it’s a smart tactic. “Fine.” He spits. “Answer a different question for me, then; what is it that the Shambali worship?”

**“The Iris.”**

**  
** **  
** “Expand.”

**“No.”**

This time, Genji does roll his eyes. “Why not? You are so fickle.”

**“You have not eaten your breakfast yet. The Iris is a day’s worth of discussion.”** Zenyatta answers. His words are tight and clipped down to the bare minimum of what they can possibly be. Genji is curious as to why this room is so touchy for Zenyatta.

Probably his ex’s room or some shit like that. Something dumb.

“Fine. I eat, you tell me about your Iris. We all go home happy, right?”

**“Maybe.”**

Genji is annoyed by plenty of things. He feels like he should be kicking Zenyatta in the face for acting like such a dodgy creep, but he’s not. Zenyatta and this room have some history. Genji would like to know it, but it’s clearly valued information. Zenyatta often says he should be more patient.

  
  
Genji takes a deep breath. He stretches his arms over his head, and yawns. Some of that frustration is dissolved, but the rest hardens into resolve.

  
  
“Alright.”

Zenyatta leaves. He never waits for Genji to follow. Maybe he knows Genji will follow him, no matter how many times he turns and goes away. 


	10. १०

Genji does follow. 

After breakfast, Zenyatta leads him into that dark room where they first met face-to-face. Both of them glow in the dark, but details are hidden. Genji wonders what the meaning of this is, but he’s pretty sure it’s part of the lesson.

  
  
**“The Iris is not one distinct thing. Not a god, not several gods. It is something brought forth by the effort of those who are in contact with it.”** Zenyatta explains. Genji doesn’t really understand, but he doesn’t interrupt.  **“Before the curse, Shambali believed the Iris could be represented visually with group photos, giving us something to put in our shrines. Shambali monks are made into monks by coming into contact and understanding with the Iris.”**

Genji nods. That kind of makes sense. Shambali monk equals Iris, picture of Shambali monks equals representation of Iris.

**“The Iris was good. Peacefulness, generosity, unconditional love. Ascension. The ability to reach a higher state of being through unquestioning kindness and respect for those around you, no matter how different a person is.”** The monster continues.  **“My brother.. my mentor, Tekhartha Mondatta, he had hoped these values would bring the end of the Omnic War. It did not.”**

Genji remembers the mention of Tekhartha Mondatta. A target, because every good person was a target. Widow had taken him out with little resistance, though that speedy lady, Tracer, had tried to thwart her.    
  


Mondatta and Zenyatta were brothers? Maybe in the monk sense, yes. Genji feels himself sinking into guilt. 

**“These values are no longer accurate to how the Iris has changed. There is no more togetherness, no more generosity, no more people to love and respect. The old Iris has died with my brothers.”** Zenyatta continues. His voice is cold.  **“So, I have created values for the new Iris.”**

That sounds… curious. Genji is still quiet.

**“My life for the last one-hundred-fourty-two years, thirty-seven days, and two hours has been oblivion. Complete and utter nothingness. I have become this place, and this place becomes me. This is the standard by which I live. Madness, curses, consumption.”**

**“I have a fondness for the unknown. I am intertwined with my oblivion. With shadows and monsters. These are the metrics by which I will teach when explorers such as you choose to find me. The old Iris’ usefulness, the old pillars of the Shambali faith, they only reach so far. Darkness, nothingness, death, reaches further. Offers more.”**

“Have you been teaching me oblivion?” Genji asks.

**“Yes. You make it easy for me, Genji. Oblivion is the exact thing you seek.”** Zenyatta nods.  **“Demonstrate what you know. Close your eyes. Experience nothingness.”**

Genji obeys. It’s not a terribly difficult task. He is able to feel it when Zenyatta pokes around in his head. He feels watched. He feels like he loses every sense except for touch. The feeling of a glove touching his forehead surprises him a little, but not much. He can feel himself asking “what are you doing?”, but he can’t hear the words. 

  
  
Zenyatta’s voice is perfectly clear when he speaks in Genji’s mind.  **_Seeing what it is you allow me to see._ **

They have done many thought exercises before. Genji concentrates on a given thing, Zenyatta tells him if he was able to see it. The things have become memories, lately. Memories of Blackwatch. Memories of Hanamura. 

Zenyatta knows Hanzo, though his knowledge is not vast. The long-haired older brother who is too serious. Zenyatta knows the dojo. Zenyatta knows the family’s  _ odachi _ . The culmination of these things, however, is what eludes Zenyatta. 

“What do you want me to think of?” 

**_Anything. Your worst secrets, your happiest memories. A shiny red apple._ **

Genji thinks about that pretty red apple from his dream. Genji thinks about his mother brushing her hair. Genji thinks about that thumbtack out in the hall he left for Hanzo to step on. 

**_Very good. Now think of nothingness._ **

Genji tries to accommodate Zenyatta's idea of nothingness. Not true absence, but darkness. Not true emptiness, but a shadow that wreaths the strange otherworldly things Genji can’t quite perceive. No shapes appear directly before him, but he imagines wisps and ghosts of other things just out of view.

**_Your idea of nothingness is peculiar. Would you like to explain it to me?_ **

“It’s the Iris. That is what you told me.” 

Zenyatta is silent. It seems as if even the mechanical buzz of his body quiets. Genji’s senses come back, and Zenyatta leaves Genji’s mind. The gloves stay on. 

**“Is that truly what you believe, Genji? Most humans see nothing as a lack of something.”**

“You are my sensei. You have had one-hundred-forty-seven years to think of these things. Whatever holes your basis idea might have had are filled. Whatever inconsistencies, remedied. Your faith is something I am willing to take a chance on, if it helps me forget.” Genji explains. 

Two cold fingers make contact with Genji’s forehead.  **“It is not a lie.”** The monster murmurs, drawing away.  **“I would not call the Iris a faith, though. That is not an accurate word anymore.”**

“What is it, then?” 

There are several words to describe several types of religions. Some of them are widely accurate, some of them only fit one religion. Zenyatta thinks one of them fits most accurately. 

**“A cult.”**

What an ominous word to describe the following of the Iris. Genji finds it amusing. “How very like you, Zenyatta.” 

**“I have always found cults most interesting. Being a part of one is an opportunity you’ve given me.”** The monster answers, a little sheepish.  **“If you would prefer not being invested in a cult, I believe the word “sect” is also accurate, since you already practice a religion.”**

Genji can’t imagine his waning grasp on  _ shinto _ to be a true practice. He was taught it when he was very young, and most of the ideas of the faith are not based in reality. Genji’s reality, anyway. 

“Cult is fine.” He answers after a bit of thought. “I pray out of habit.”

**“Prayer is optional, in my eyes. I do not want to restrict you with rules.”**

Genji thinks that sounds quite nice. “How is it that I practice this faith, then?” He asks. 

**“I think you already have been practicing it. You follow me like a dog, and you imitate what I do. Meditation, fasting, sparring. We perform the same actions, we have the same routine.”** Zenyatta answers. 

Genji supposes that’s right. He’s proud of himself for not being offended by his denomination of a dog. “It will be easy, then.” 

Zenyatta chuckles. 

**“Perhaps it will.”**


	11. ११

Exactly one month and one day has passed since Genji’s indoctrination. Just like every significant event between him and Genji, Zenyatta has started timing it.

  
  
It’s been six months, two weeks, and four days since Genji set foot on the very base of the mountain. It’s been six months, one week, and six days since Genji first met Zenyatta in that dream. It’s been six months, one week, and five days since Genji first witnessed Zenyatta in person.

Zenyatta can’t help himself. Every event brings him such insight. He’s addicted to the consistent stimulation that interacting with Genji brings him. It’s like a drug.

But he’s gotten too deep on more than one occasion. He saw that nightmare, and promptly lied about it. He saw Genji’s face when he wasn’t supposed to. He’s scoured every inch of Genji’s memory with excruciating detail, save for one night in a dojo.

He’s seen everything. He’s seen into every intimate moment with another person, and he’s seen into every boring day of monotonous education preparing Genji for something or another. 

That dojo has appeared in other memories. Genji used to be much more keen on attacking with brazen confidence than he is now. Less dodging, more shooting from the hip. 

  
  
Zenyatta thinks hard about the dojo. In the nightmare, the attacking figure’s face was there, but it refused to register. Zenyatta can’t remember a thing about it, other than the fact that it was there. There’s a name so frequently on Genji’s tongue that he never says. He only thinks it, over and over. A wild, unbidden, stormy fury clouds the name. The clouds crackle with rage and electricity. The churning of the weather roars like a great, ancient beast. 

  
  
Hanzo. 

It is quite clear that Genji hates whoever this Hanzo is. Every memory involving someone by the name of Hanzo is cloudy and unclear. Bits are chopped out - Zenyatta assumes they’re hidden with the rest of Genji’s trauma.

  
  
Zenyatta is an omnic, despite his revolting appearance. He craves knowledge, and the fact that a delicious bit of Genji’s story hangs like a tattered flag on a high pole out of Zenyatta’s reach makes Zenyatta want to shriek.

  
  
He wants to know. He wants to know everything. He wants to know what Hanzo did to Genji. He wants to know why Genji was murdered by that man in the dojo. He wants to explore every last excruciating detail, and he is going to do it.

Zenyatta slows down. 

It’s late.

The hallway lanterns wash everything with a warm orange light. It is comforting. The nearest lantern crackles. The hallway leads to a turn that Zenyatta can’t see down. The breeze that pervades the monastery corridors are like the labored breaths of a great beast. Zenyatta slows down, and waits. Lets himself reconnect. Organizes his thoughts a little bit, and wards off the more unsavory ones.

Genji’s room is right there. Zenyatta needs to think quieter, before those thoughts become words that Genji can hear.

So, quietly, Zenyatta begins again. Someday, he is going to know what Genji is hiding. And Genji will not have a say in the matter when that day comes.

He wonders if this loathesome fixation could mean something else. Something worse. Something that Zenyatta’s horrible loneliness is stoking. An infatuation.

Zenyatta has never experienced attraction in a way he can recognize. It is the crippling seclusion of being the last of a family that makes Zenyatta think this way. But he chases Genji’s touch. His approval. Any positive reactions at all. Genji’s validation is more than a drug, it’s an elixir that keeps Zenyatta alive. Surely, that is more than the loneliness speaking.

Zenyatta experiences arousal. Before he was a monk (eons ago, at this point), he could download what he wanted to research from any available source, and it would turn him on. He knows he is able to be aroused, and he knows the experience of arousal.

When Genji pinned him to the ground and held that blade against his neck, it made Zenyatta want to  _ moan _ . So much touch, everywhere. Zenyatta’s sensory inputs were obliterated. The thought of it now makes Zenyatta feel more like a miscreant wretch than a holy man.

But.

Zenyatta, naturally, is sensitive. He experiences things differently after such lengthy solitude. So, though it feels a little like a lie, Zenyatta’s more rational side tells him that he’s only lonely. That Genji causing such thoughts and sensations is a natural reaction to being touched in that way, after eons of nothing. That, even if it happens again, it only means that Zenyatta is still a little human, in whatever ways omnics are human. 

He pauses again. This time, he closes his eyes and reopens them.

It’s late.

Zenyatta should be asleep, instead of staring into the waving, warping flame of the lantern. But he’s not.

Zenyatta looks to Genji’s door. Shut, and locked. There’s a blanket stuffed under the crack between the pavement and the wood, so Zenyatta can’t hear what’s going on in there. He comes closer, and tentatively puts his own two feet on the ground. His fingers, slim and robotic, slide along the wood, completely silent. He leans his full weight on that hand, silently. 

He doesn’t have his gloves with him. Good Iris, it feels intimate.

He leans forward and presses his other hand to the door. Puts his chest against the door, Presses the side of his head into the door. The door does not creak. Zenyatta won’t allow it.

Zenyatta is obsessed.

There have been years and years between the last time Zenyatta spoke to another being and now. He has sat in an abyss and waited. Laid in ambush and anticipated the fatal footstep of his prey. His solitude, the utter nothingness for hundreds of years while Zenyatta had nothing but his thoughts for company… it’s driven him insane. He is insane. And his insanity only fuels this wretched obsession.

So he follows Genji.

He follows Genji when Genji thinks he is alone. He watches when Genji quietly eats his food, explores outside of the monastery, looks out of the slim meditation room windows for hours on end. He would watch Genji sleep if he thought he could get away with it.

But being in Mondatta’s old room is too difficult a task. Zenyatta can’t bear it, even when his beloved Genji is hiding inside.   


**Don’t hide from me.**

Zenyatta listens intently at the door. It’s almost nothing. So close to utter silence. 

**You cannot hide forever, Genji.**

The faintest breathing. Genji is sleeping. Peacefully, somehow. Zenyatta had grown so accustomed to the cries. The begging.

**I am going to get in there.**

Zenyatta’s obsession is disgusting. He’s horrid. He knows he shouldn’t be here, pressed up against Genji’s door. Gloveless. Listening to him sleep.

**I am going to find you.**

************ Zenyatta retreats, sitting back up in a float and hiding away in his room. He kneels at his altar for the first time in centuries. He asks to be rid of these foul thoughts, this desire to know things he shouldn’t, but the Iris knows that Zenyatta does not truly want to be freed of his obsession.

**And you are never going to stop me.**


	12. १२

It rains.

Genji and Zenyatta have been learning about each other. It’s slow, sometimes it’s painful -- both of them harbor more trauma than they should -- but there are no more backwards days.

The span of time in which Genji is refusing Zenyatta, refusing his help and his insight, he doesn’t move forward or backward. Genji digs his heels in and waits for something. A break. Usually, breaks are not coincidental. Zenyatta will present him with anything he can to bring his mood up. Only once has Zenyatta needed to influence Genji directly, and neither of them enjoyed the experience.

So now, Zenyatta saves his influence, his unholy power for when he is teaching Genji acceptance.

And it rains. 

The end of winter almost always means storms, in Zenyatta’s experience. He doesn’t like rain very much when he’s in it (it poses considerable risk along with just being plain unpleasant), but he could sit at the tall, thin windows of the meditation room and stare into the foggy storms for days.

But, during rain, Zenyatta falls quiet. It’s not Zenyatta’s usual quiet, Genji notes. Zenyatta’s usual quiet is a powerful, knowing one, exuding grace and calculated delicacy. 

Now Zenyatta’s silence is almost mournful.

On the second day of the biggest storm, Genji joins Zenyatta in the meditation room. Genji knows there’s something wrong when Zenyatta doesn’t follow him around the monastery all day. He takes his mat and places it next to Zenyatta’s. The monster doesn’t look over at him. There’s no reason to. Genji looks out the window, and is both surprised and unsurprised by the lack of fundamentally interesting stimulus.

Zenyatta could probably stare at a brick wall and find some entertainment in it. Genji will save that quip for a more appropriate time, he decides.

**“If you’re bored, you do not have to sit with me.”** Zenyatta says suddenly, pulling Genji from thoughts  about future conversations.  **“I don’t need to be consoled. It will pass.”**

**** Genji just smiles. He doesn’t move, but he does pipe up after a while. “I never said anything about boredom or consolation,  _ sensei _ .” He murmurs. He sounds like he’s in a good mood. “Though, if you think me to be so bored, we could talk.”

Zenyatta chuckles an empty chuckle.  **“It sounds as though you would like to talk about something, my dear student.”** The cultist replies. 

“If you don’t mind talking, yes.”

**“Are you going to ask why I’m upset when it rains?”**

Genji looks off to the side. Caught red-handed. “I am.” He admits. No use in hiding it, it’s pretty obvious.

Zenyatta’s tentacles roll up quite tightly. They only do that rarely - Genji hasn’t got the faintest clue what it means.  **“It was yesterday. The sixteenth of January. That was when I learned of Mondatta’s death.”** He explains softly.  **“I loved every single one of my brothers deeply, but Mondatta.. we shared differences, but, in the end, we found we trusted one another more than anyone else. He knew me better than I knew me. And I knew him the same way. Finding out I had lost him to miss Amelie was devastating.”**

Zenyatta’s voice betrays almost no emotion. Genji, quite frankly, is impressed.  **“Two days from now, the nineteenth- that will be the day I lost everyone else.”**

“The curse?”

**“The curse.”** Zenyatta nods.  **“Bringing forth the Iris set the timer for inevitable doom from the second Mondatta reached it.”**

Genji wonders if Zenyatta wants to actually talk about this stuff, but a question is spilling out of his mouth before he can catch himself. “What happened when the curse arrived?”

Zenyatta gives Genji a look. With the icy, well-thought-out intonation of his voice, Genji has no idea whether he’s being judged or humbly considered. Zenyatta takes a moment, and then continues.  **“We had all touched the Iris at least once. Now, it touched us - reached into the core of our being and crushed what we were built to be. Made us new, made us in it’s image. We became a gallery of horrifying monsters.”**

**“There is a cliff beneath this meditation room. At the bottom of it are my brothers.”**

The temptation to look strikes Genji quite firmly, but he resists the terrible urge and waits with Zenyatta. For what, neither of them are sure. “Put on your gloves?” The cyborg asks after a while,

Zenyatta does so immediately. It’s rather surprising, the obedience, but no matter. Genji reaches over and puts his hand on top of Zenyatta’s tightly-balled fist. 

“The rain is beautiful.” He says. “And the thunder is so resonant.”

Zenyatta’s hand twitches. Later, it will occur to Genji that Zenyatta was resisting the urge to hold his hand.  **“Yes, it is. But… I feel guilty about seeing beauty in such things on days like these ones”**

Genji stands up and rifles around in the small utility closet connected to the meditaion room. He procudes a thick, fleece blanket. Zenyatta almost says he remembers the one who made it, but he doesn’t. The thought is… painful. Genji puts it on Zenyatta’s shoulders and sits with him again.

“Mourning is healthy, and shows you love the ones you have lost.” Genji says sagely, “But you seem to take it quite harshly, even after many years since that day. Why?”

Zenyatta doesn’t want to answer. He fixes Genji with quite the silence, so Genji tries again, a little more to-the-point this time. “You can enjoy the rain.”

Hm. Zenyatta remembers many, many things about the monks who lived here with him. He knows their personalities, their wishes for him. He feels guilt about subconsciously moving on, but.. Genji is right, even objectively. Hell,  _ Zenyatta _ was the one meant to be teaching Genji about letting go.

But Genji can’t read minds, or sense discord. “It’s what they would have wanted for you,  _ sensei _ .” He continues. 

Zenyatta chuckles. His tentacles unfurl slowly - it’s nice to know he’s relaxing a little bit.  **“You’re right. Of course, you’re right.”** He says.  **“I-... I’m sorry, Genji. For setting a bad example.”**

Genji looks back to the rain. Zenyatta’s hand, even with the glove, is so cold that the damp, chilly air is almost comfortable. “Don’t worry about it.” He murmurs. “We learn from one another equally, even if you are the  _ sensei  _ and I am the  _ gakusei _ .”

Genji, for all of his hate and horrible trauma, is a kind and delicate soul. He treats Zenyatta with far more respect than he used to. 

It makes Zenyatta want to justify his silent mania. But he doesn’t. He knows that he’s very far from the right when it comes to how he behaves around Genji. His depravity, surely, is limitless.

For once, though, Genji isn’t trying to fill the silence. It’s not a horrid silence, considering the lovely rain and the distant thunder that rolls over the mountains, but it’s still melancholy. A thought comes to Genji, and he stands up. “I’ll come right back.” He says, before disappearing.

The thunder is a comforting noise through the monastery’s thick walls. Resounding, yet quiet. The lantern light makes the air feel warmer, even if it’s still bitingly cold. Genji turns into the doorway connecting the dining hall and the kitchen, and he begins preparing a kettle for tea. 

“You could have just said you wanted to come with me.” The ninja says to Zenyatta, who’s followed him into the kitchen. “It’s not a chore to spend time with you.”

**“I like to keep you on your toes.”** Zenyatta says, quite flatly. Despite the lack of effort on the delivery, Genji chuckles a little.

The cyborg looks over his shoulder at Zenyatta. Still has the blanket, at least. Genji takes a moment to collect his thoughts while he’s pouring the hot water over the tea steeper. “Would you like me to read to you?” He asks softly. “Perhaps it would be nicer than sitting over a gravesite and silently watching the rain.”

Zenyatta makes an amused sound. Even if it’s not quite a laugh, Genji takes pride in the achievement.

**“What would you be reading?”**

“I’ve been enjoying some very old paper novels from the library. The one I’m reading now is titled  _ A Wrinkle in Time. _ I think you’d like it.” Genji replies. 

Zenyatta faintly remembers that book. Something about time travel and three curious children. Pausing to consider Genji’s voice, Zenyatta decides he would very much like to have Genji read to him, if only for a passage or two.

“Well?”

  
Zenyatta chuckles.  **“Alright.”**


	13. १३

And of course, the time comes in which Zenyatta must stop stalling for time.

  
  
He comes into Genji’s room in the late afternoon, wherein Genji is peacefully meditating by himself. Zenyatta is proud of him. He’s learned patience in a way Zenyatta did not expect him to. He joins Genji on the bed.

**“Genji.”** He says. Genji doesn’t respond -- he doesn’t really need to.  **“Today, I am going to take a memory away from you.”**

Genji’s eyes snap open, and he whips his head to look at Zenyatta. “All of them?” He asks. 

  
  
Zenyatta shakes his head.  **“No. Even though you are opening up more, you still won’t let me in completely. I’m going to remove a superficial memory, to make sure it can still be done.”**

“Oh.”

Oh, indeed.  **“We do not have to proceed. If you’re having doubts-”**

“No. No, no. Not doubts.” Genji cuts him off, quickly. He almost looks annoyed, even though Zenyatta can’t see the lower half of his face. “I just..”

  
  
**“You want to get it over with.”**

It’s true, but the way Zenyatta says it makes Genji feel.. upset. A little stupid. “Yes.” 

Zenyatta puts on his gloves in silence. He touches Genji’s forehead. 

  
  
It’s a peculiar place, the inside of a mind. Each one is a different environment. Genji’s is a grey field beneath a cloudy grey sky. Somewhere in the distance is a tree, with a tiny dot of red on one of the branches. An apple. 

**_Show me something you would not mind forgetting,_ ** Zenyatta says.

The field disappears. It’s replaced by a small white room, containing a sterile medical bed and a small desk with a computer. On the walls are various medical instruments. Ah, yes, the doctor’s office. 

Genji is sitting on the medical bed. He’s about ten years old. There’s a slim woman with a gaunt face and long black hair standing with him, holding his hand. She is Shimada Fujiko, Genji’s mother. A doctor comes in, stout and balding. He asks young Genji to extend his arm, and inserts a needle into the crook of his elbow.   
  


Zenyatta is hesitating. Normally, he’d just get it over with, but he almost feels locked in place. 

The young Genji looks up at him and his face twists into one of unbidden horror. The mother looks over too, but her eyes are empty. She doesn’t see what young Genji sees.

  
  
Zenyatta approaches, and takes the mother’s place when she steps away. His hand - ungloved, ugh - is put around young Genji’s thin neck. He feels around until he finds the trachea, and digs his nails in around it. Young Genji is crying -- how upsetting to watch. His mother seems quite unimpressed, she probably thinks he’s crying because of the needle. 

Zenyatta grips harder. His nails break skin and begin digging through muscle tissue. His fingers slowly carve through young Genji’s neck until he’s got a full grip on the windpipe. Genji’s mother is now panicking, and the doctor is trying to stop the bleeding. 

  
  
Zenyatta pulls sharply backwards. The section of trachea in his fist is removed, and blood flies everywhere, drenching his poor mother and the utterly confounded doctor. Young Genji collapses. He is dead. 

And then, it’s like it never happened. Zenyatta is brought back to the field, and there’s not blood or internal organs in his fist. He doesn’t feel much -- he’s done it to animals so many times that a human he doesn’t know hardly feels different. Genji’s not that kid anymore. Genji’s not even human anymore.

The monster withdraws. Genji looks horrified.

**“Do you remember anything?”**

The horror slowly drains from Genji’s face. He knows he just saw something terrible, but he can’t remember what it was at all. “I.. I don’t.” He says, dumbfounded. However, the next thing he says surprises Zenyatta. “Bring it back.

  
  
Hm.  **“If I were to bring it back, you’d see what I had to do to remove it.”** He warns as gently as he can.

Genji shoots Zenyatta with a skeptical look. “I’ll be fine.” 

**“Let it be known that I warned you.”** Zenyatta huffs in reply.  **“You were in a doctor’s office, with your mother and your pediatrician. You were getting a shot, your mother held your hand.”**

Genji tries to recall it. He slowly puts it together. A white room. Long black hair. Thin needle filled with weird clear oily stuff. 

And Zenyatta.

As the memory plays out, Genji’s alarm returns. Zenyatta- Zenyatta ripped out his throat. He looked him right in the eyes as he did it, too. He didn’t even emote.

It’s now that Genji fully understands how unspeakably nightmarish Zenyatta is.

  
  
“ _ Nantekotta i.. _ you murdered me-?” He asks with trepidation. 

**“Not really, no. Just the memory of you. If you don’t exist within the memory, the memory can’t exist, either.”** Zenyatta explains.  **“If you worry you’ll have nightmares about it, I’ll take it away again.”**

Genji frowns. “No. I think… I think I needed to see it.” 

Zenyatta is a bit troubled by that answer, but there’s hardly any point in dwelling while Genji is still in his company.  **“And what of your other memories? Are you still prepared to go through with what we have planned?”**

Genji nods, but his mind has already migrated to other questions. In other words -- not paying attention. “Zenyatta.. have you ever seen those memories you tell me I’m hiding?” He asks slowly.

Truthfully, the reason why he asks is because he knows Zenyatta is as crafty as he is powerful. Surely he’s poked around in Genji’s mind while he’s slept -- he’s even admitted to it. 

Zenyatta softens the lie.  **“Bits and pieces, but not enough. There is a brother, his name is Hanzo. There is a sword, and a dojo.”** He says, trying to make it sound as if he’s defeated. 

It works. Genji’s face slowly turns into one of simmering annoyance, and Zenyatta prepares to both dart away and summon a harmony orb at once. But Genji doesn’t lunge, he just presses his palms into his forehead and scowls. 

“Urgh… It would be so much easier if my brain wasn’t so..  _ yowamushi _ … _ ” _ Genji huffs. “I just want to forget.”

**“I know.”** Zenyatta mumbles, reaching out and touching Genji’s hand. Genji stares at the point of contact.  **“If you think it would help, you could tell me what happened face to face.”**

Genji is completely silent. A rather abrupt outpouring of discord startles Zenyatta.

**“It is only you and I on this mountain, Genji. I have no reason to tell anyone about it.”** The cultist says. 

And yet, in spite of everything, Genji pulls his hand away. He shakes his head. “Not yet.” He mutters, voice hollow. “It must wait as long as it possibly can.”

Zenyatta is quiet for a considerable amount of time. Genji watches him carefully -- he keeps seeing that memory of the doctor’s office. Slowly, though, he pulls away from Genji. It’s only then that Genji realizes how close they’ve been sitting. **“Then it will. We will do more exercises tomorrow.”** He says. 

Genji bows his head. “I will be up early for it.” The cyborg answers. He looks quite upset. 

Zenyatta touches Genji’s shoulder delicately.  **“I am sorry you’ve been hurt in this way, Genji.”** He whispers.  **“Even if it meant never getting to meet you, I would have preferred you to live in a world that was kinder to you.”**

Genji doesn’t look up, but he shudders against Zenyatta’s hand. So cold. Genji can only imagine how freezing he’d be without that glove on. “Me too.” He mumbles into his hand. “Goodnight, Zenyatta.” 

**“Goodnight.”**

And just like that, Genji is alone again. He lays back on the bed and thinks. Thinks about the memory he allowed Zenyatta to take from him. He has never seen Zenyatta so… empty. Like a true machine, with the sole directive of murdering a young boy in front of his mother. 

That face. 

Genji has been with Zenyatta long enough to understand how his face moves. There’s never much to go off of (Zenyatta just refuses to make things easy for Genji most days, doesn’t he?), but his tentacles and his eyes are most expressive. Zenyatta’s eye-lights shut off when he “blinks”. His tentacles fiddle with one another when he’s working idly, as if he can never be completely still at any given time. 

But Zenyatta was completely blank. There was a dark shadow over his features, and he didn’t react at all when Genji cried and croaked out his dying words --  _ tomete kudasai- _

Genji wonders what it would be like, to be examined so coldly in real time. For Zenyatta to stare Genji down without even a word to express how he knows he could crush Genji in his fist. 

Genji hates being compelled like this. Obsessing over some odd detail like a creep. The detail of his would-be murderer’s face, too. But, god, he can never help it when he fixates on something. Zenyatta’s hands when they’re ungloved. Zenyatta’s mala when they stare into his soul. Those little sounds he makes while stretching or being pinned by Genji in a proper spar.

Genji grumbles and puts his hands over his eyes. Whatever idea his mind is trying to lead him into, he wants no part of it. He doesn’t want to know what’s knocking around in the back of his brain.

He snuffs out the lantern in his room, and shuffles under the blanket. Not his problem. Future Genji will have to deal with it.


End file.
